“My brother likes you, Centurion,” heinformed me. “He wanted to see if you were a true warrior like heis, and he got his answer.” This was flattering, but what he saidnext was the most important. “He said, of course he accepts yourterms. We will provide you with the means to repair your ship, thengive you enough food and water to return home, in exchange for therelease of…”
Suddenly, Ivomagus’ composure crumbled. Hestopped speaking, unable to go any further, dropping his face intohis hands as his shoulders were wracked with sobs. And, in thatmoment, I saw that, whatever else his faults and flaws may havebeen, Cogidubnus truly loved his brother. What was not apparent inthat moment was that I had sealed my own fate.
“We’re heading for Petuar,” I told theofficers of both ship and Legion that evening in my quarters. Usingthe map, I pointed at the very western edge as I explained, “It’sfive miles upstream and is the only Parisii town on the riverthat’s large enough to suit our needs.” I was not expecting it, butthis announcement elicited a small cheer from the assembledofficers, and I tried to hide my surprise and pleasure. “Yes, well,we’re going to row upstream, and King Cogidubnus has already sentword for the men who work on their ships to make preparations forour arrival.”
“How long will we be there?” Columellaasked, and for this, I turned to Cador and Motius.
“It all depends on how far we have togo for a mast,” Motius said, which I saw irritated Cador, and Irecall thinking with grim humor, That’s the least of your worries,Cador. “Since we are stuck on the river, I have no idea whetherthere are forests with trees tall enough for our needs.”
This was not a satisfying answer, but it wasan honest one, and I did not blame Motius for being cautious.
“When do we start out?”
Again, I turned to the seamen, who had abrief discussion in their own tongue.
“There’s no reason we could not startimmediately,” Cador answered, then held up a hand, “but thatdepends on whether we can find a Parisii who knows the river wellenough to navigate in the dark.”
“What’s to navigate?” Mus scoffed.“It’s five miles upriver. How hard can it be?”
In this, Motius was clearly comfortableletting Cador answer, which made sense once I thought about it, andhe did not hesitate.
“Other than logjams, sandbars, and mudriver bottom?” Cador shot back. “It is very simple.”
Mus was clever enough to understand he hadbeen outflanked, and he mumbled, “All right, you made yourpoint.”
“How many men got fed?” I askedSaloninus, and here the news was not so good.
“Less than half of both us and thecrew,” he answered soberly. “We talked about making the portionseven less to feed everyone else, but that would have meant lessthan a mouthful.”
“Pluto’s cock,” I muttered.
“Did you get fed at least, PilusPrior?”
I know that Columella did not mean it in amean-spirited manner, but it still made me uncomfortable to lie. “Igot a few bites of some meat. Now,” I turned to more practicalmatters, “I’m going to have you,” I indicated Saloninus, Columella,and Mus, “let the boys know what’s going on.”
“What about the slaves?” Motius asked.“What do we tell them?”
“Well,” I answered, not without somebitterness, “since Ivomagus decided not to return, I suppose youcan tell them they need to do their job and row usupstream.”
It was actually a fortunate thing thatIvomagus made a liar out of me, although I will say this much, theman who was rowed back to the ship did not resemble the formerslave in the slightest. The sun was just about to set when Ivomagusreappeared; we had deemed it safe enough to move next to the dock,but it was a quite different Ivomagus than the last time I laideyes on him. His full beard was gone, although he still had thelong mustache that is so popular with the tribes of both Gaul andBriton, but it was the change in his attire that was most striking.He was wearing a blue tunic, except that, in a similar manner toCogidubnus’ tunic, it had a pattern on it, and the stripes weregreen, albeit a darker green than his brother’s tunic. In effect,it was more subdued, except this was set off by a red cloak that,to my eye, appeared very similar to the paludamentum of the Roman Legate. Also like hisbrother, he was wearing a torq, but most importantly, hesmelled much better than thegalley slave he had been not long before. When he boarded, I couldnot help laughing.
“I don’t even recognize you,” I toldhim, and I was only partly jesting.
“I am not sure I know myself,” hereplied, but while it was with a smile, I saw the pain there, and Iwas struck by the thought that, the more I got to know Ivomagus,the more I liked the man. This was destined to change quitedramatically, making me wonder how I would have behaved if I hadknown this.
“What matters is whether your fellow…”I managed to stop myself in time from saying “slaves,” changing to,“…Parisii recognize you.”
I
